Baby Love (50 page)

             
"I think I will go to the suite and nurse her.  She probably needs changing before I put her down for her afternoon nap."

              "Of course.  Do you want to rest up as well?"

              I actually was tired.  The going-away fuckfest that Trey and I had enjoyed the night before had left me less than rested sleep-wise.

              "That sounds wonderful to me dad.  I think I will rest with her as well.  I will see you at dinner then."

              "We will be eating around six.  Enjoy your nap."

              I took Preston to our suite and washed her face off.  I changed her diaper and put her in a jogging outfit for comfort.  I set the alarm clock that was on the nightstand next to the bed for 5:30.

              Preston and I settled back on the ornate canopy bed. I unbuttoned my blouse letting her get situated on her side curled up next to me. She latched onto my breast and I felt the gentle sucking as she began nursing.  It was as soothing to me as it was to her. I pulled the comforter up around us and we both fell asleep.

              I dreamt of my mother for the first time ever.  Reading her notes and being around my father had conjured her up in my subconscious.  I could now picture her and what she had looked like.  Maggie of course had never kept a picture of her around since she was posing as my natural mother for all of those years.  I had the impression that my mother and Maggie did not resemble each other all that much physically or morally.  For that I was very thankful.

              It had only seemed like moments had passed before the alarm clock on the nightstand went off.  Preston was still dozing peacefully next to me.  I moved quietly from the bed letting her sleep.

              I went into the bathroom and washed my face and re-applied my make-up.  I brushed my teeth and brushed the tangles from my hair.  I changed into a pair of dress slacks and blouse for dinner.  I had no clue as to how formal my dad rolled at his estate.

              Preston was stirring as I returned to the bedroom.  I scooped her up and she rubbed her eyes with her hands and yawned.

              "Hey baby girl, did you have a nice nap?"

              She smiled but was squirming uncomfortably in my arms.

              "Does somebody need a diaper change?"

              I placed a towel on top of the bed and got a disposable diaper from the box, along with the baby wipes from my carry-on.  I removed her soiled diaper and cleaned her up, putting a clean diaper on her.  I took my brush and ran it through her baby locks getting rid of her 'bed head.'

              "There," I said smiling at her.  "Preston looks beautiful."

              I got a jar of her pureed chicken and yams along with a jar of pureed peaches from my carry-on taking them downstairs with us.

              My father came across the massive hallway as he heard us coming down the stairs.  He immediately took Preston from me as we went to the formal dining room.

              "Oh shoot," I said as he was seating me, "I need to go back up to our room to get a bib and her baby spoon for her.

              "Not to worry," she said with a smile.  "We can accommodate".

              He called for Ms. Deeny asking her to fetch the bib and spoon from the diaper bag in our suite.  She scowled and turned on her heel to do as instructed.

              She returned a few minutes later with the items.  A high chair had been moved up to the big dining room table for Preston. 

              A servant brought out a lovely roast with new baby potatoes, glazed carrots and freshly made bread.  I was famished.

              I started to get up to feed Preston first but my father bade me to remain seated.  He said he wanted to do the honors of feeding her.  I didn't think he knew what he was in for.

              By the time Dad had finished feeding Preston, they both had their fair share of pureed chicken and yams on them. 

              Ms. Deeny had come out viewing the aftermath and pursed her lips giving a 'tsk-tsk' while shaking her head in disapproval.

              "Judge I will get a cold wet cloth to dab those food stains off of your shirt and tie," she said heading back to the kitchen.

              "No Karen," he said abruptly. 

              "Please see to cleaning my granddaughter up though.  I want to eat dinner with my daughter."

              My motherly instincts were on 'high alert' as the frigid midget lifted my baby girl from her high chair to take her into the kitchen to clean her up.

              "I can do that," I started.

              "Oh no," she said to me with a statue-like smile.

              "I love babies.  I have several grandchildren that I thoroughly enjoy."

             
(Why did I not believe her?)

              I watched as they disappeared through the swinging door that lead from the dining room into the kitchen.  I didn't like Preston to be out of my site with the hag.

              I relaxed just a couple of minutes later when Ms. Deeny returned with a cleaned up Preston.   

              "There she is, all nice and clean," Karen cooed as she placed her back into the high chair. 

              She must have given Preston a graham cracker in the kitchen as she had one clutched in her chubby little hand.  Karen got her situated and belted into the high chair.

              Just as she slid the tray back onto the chair, Preston leaned in and grabbed Karen's gold necklace that was dangling within the baby's reach.  Preston had it clutched in her fingers, pulling at it.

              "No! No!" Karen said in a loud voice that startled the baby. 

              Preston immediately released the chain and turned to me, her face was puckered up ready to cry.

              "There now," Karen said as she adjusted the necklace back around her turkey neck.

              "No harm done sweetheart."

              Karen brushed past us as she left the dining room.  It was if she hadn't noticed that she had upset the baby - or hadn't cared.  I lifted Preston out of her high chair who by this time had reduced her crying to a whimper; she turned her attention back to the graham cracker as I sat her on my lap to finish eating.

              "It's likely been some time since Ms. Deeny has been around toddler. I'm sure she didn't mean to come off so harshly," my dad commented.

             
(I was sure as hell that she did!)

             
"What about the grandchildren that she mentioned that she thoroughly enjoyed?"

              "I believe that they live in another state, he replied.

              I then realized that her aversion to the baby and me was likely caused by jealousy; pure and simple jealousy.  She had probably thought that since Olivia had passed on she would become mistress of the manor.  Who knows?  In her own twisted mind she may have even presumed she would share my father's bed.  He was still young and vibrant; she was a dried up hag trying to look like she still had it going on.

              "How long has Ms. Deeny been in your employ Dad?"

              "Oh she actually worked for my late wife's family prior to our getting married.  Olivia insisted on having Karen join our staff after our wedding.  She thought of Karen like an older sister.  Olivia had been an only child born late in life to her parents.  When Olivia's mother passed away when she was in college, Karen joined the staff."

              "Karen looks like she is in her sixties," I commented. 

              "Wouldn't she have been nearly old enough to be Olivia's mother?"

              "Well Olivia was eight years older than me so not quite the age gap that you would imagine."

              "How did you lose Olivia?" I asked.

              "She died last year of a sudden cerebral hemorrhage.  It was quite unexpected.  She was physically active and lived a healthy lifestyle."

              I was quiet for several moments, watching Preston gum and slobber on her graham cracker.

              "Is there something that you wish to ask me Tylar?"

              My father was watching me; a fairly intuitive person but then I supposed in his profession it was almost a necessity.

              "I don't know how to word this without offending you," I commented quietly.

              "Don't worry about offending me.  Perhaps I deserve to be offended - and a lot more.  Ask me anything."

              I flushed trying my best to pick my words carefully.

              "You've already told me that you fell in love with my mother the first night you were together; you admitted to her that if you could change things before you married your fiancé you would have."

              "That's correct," he stated waiting for more.

              "So - why didn't you call off the wedding?  If you really loved my mom why wouldn't you have done that?"

              "It's a bit more complicated than that Tylar.  I had a history with Olivia.  I had made a commitment to her; our plans were in place to build a life together.  And there is one very important factor that you have left out."

              "What factor?" I asked.

              "Your mother had given me no indication that she cared for me, let alone loved me.  They were words she wrote in a diary of sorts that I didn't see for decades - after it was too late."

              "If you had known my mother loved you - if she had said those words back to you in 1989, would it have changed anything?"

              "That's not a fair question Tylar given what I know now I cannot answer it objectively, I'm sorry."

              "One final question Dad.  Did your marriage to Olivia boost your appointment to the federal bench?"

              He looked at me and was clearly bothered by the content of my question.

              "In all truthfulness Tylar, I have to say that having the backing of such a powerful and prestigious family as my wife's certainly didn't hurt.  Was that my sole purpose in marrying her?  I can honestly say that it was not."

              I looked at him for several moments; I assessed what I saw and what my instincts so far in life had taught me.  I believed him.

CHAPTER 44

              The drive to Vidalia took less than two hours.  My dad had arranged for a limo to take us.  Preston was kept entertained by the assortment of toys we had brought along with us.  I had fed her before we left in hopes that she wouldn't start her 'num-numming' on the road.  I wouldn't have been comfortable nursing her around my father.

              Vidalia was a small town with less than five thousand residents.  It was quaint and had an attractive river walk along the banks of the Mississippi river.  The sign that welcomed travelers into town boasted Vidalia as being the 'sister' city of Natchez, Mississippi directly across the river.

              Miss Trinity LaFleur owned a shop in the small downtown area.  It was located in an old brick building on the end of the main thoroughfare. My father opened the door of the shop for me and a bell overhead tinkled our entrance. 

              The shop was not well-lit and had a musty smell to it.  The shelving that adorned all of the walls displayed a variety of homemade pottery in various shapes and sizes.  They were hand-painted with exquisite landscaped scenes of the river and the town itself.  There were glass cases that held a variety of small potted herb plants; various seed mixtures were bagged and labeled.  There were books for herbal remedies and holistic healing.

              "A little bit of everything it appears," my father commented as we headed to the back of the store.

              The aisles were narrow so my main concern was keeping Preston from reaching out to touch the colorful pottery.

              A door from behind the glass counter creaked open and a light-skinned black woman appeared.

              "May I help you?"

              "Are you Miss LaFleur?" my father asked.

"We are expected."